Blackadder: I remember Massingbird's most famous case - the Case of the Bloody Knife. A man was found next to a murdered body. He had the knife in his hand, thirteen witnesses had seen him stab the victim and when the police arrived he said 'I'm glad I killed the bastard.' Massingbird not only got him off, he got hom knighted in the New Year's Honours list, and the relatives of the victim had to pay to get the blood washed out of his jacket.
Blackadder: Darling, what are you doing here?
Darling: Bullet in the foot.
Blackadder: I can understand people at the front lines shooting themselves but you're 30 miles behind the trenches.
Darling: I didn't do it, the general did it.
Blackadder: Got tired of you already, has he?
Darling: He wasn't aiming at my foot.
Blackadder: Oh, so he was going for your head.
Darling: He wasn't aiming at anything.
Blackadder: So he was aiming for between your legs.
Flashheart: Eat knuckle, Fritz. [He knocks Blackadder to the ground and holds him there with his foot.] How disgusting, a Bosch on the sole of my boot. I shall have to find a patch of grass to wipe it in. I'll be shunned in the Officer's Mess."Sorry about the pong, you fellas; trod in the Bosch and can't get rid of the WHIFF."
Blackadder: If we could dispense with the hilarious doggie-doo metaphor for a moment, I am not a Bosch, this is a British trench.
Flashheart: Thank heaven for that, thought I'd landed sausage-side. Mind if I use your phone? If word gets out I'm dead, five hundred girls will kill themselves. I wouldn't want them on my conscience, not when they oughta be on my FACE.
[Blackadder puts the phone down.]
Baldrick: Who was that?
Blackadder: Strangely enough Baldrick, that was his Holiness Pope Gregory IX, inviting me to join him for drinks aboard his steam yacht, the Saucy Sue, currently wintering in Montego Bay, with the England cricket team, and the Balinese Goddes of Plenty.
Blackadder: No, not really. I've been ordered to HQ - no doubt means that idiot General Melchett is about to offer me an attractive new opportunity to have my brains blown out for Britain.
[George is preparing to paint Blackadder.]
Blackadder: Right, you ready?
George: Yes, if you just want to pop your clothes on the stool
Blackadder: I'm sorry?
George: Just pop your clothes on the stool over there
Blackadder: You mean... You want me... Tackle out?
George: Well, I'd have thought so yes
Blackadder: If I can remind you of the realities of battle George, one of the first things everyone notices is that all the protagonists keep their clothes ON. Neither we nor the Hun favout fighting our battles au naturel...
George: It's artistic licence sir... It's the willing suspension of disbelief
Blackadder: Well I'm not having anyone staring in disbelief at my willy suspension!
Blackadder: Sir, is there something the matter?
General Melchett: You're damned right there's something the matter! Something sinister and something grotesque. And what's worse is that it's going on right under my very nose!
Blackadder: Sir, your moustache is lovely.
[Baldrick is called to the stand to defend Blackadder.]
Blackadder: Deny everything, Baldrick.
Lieutenant George: Are you Private Baldrick?
Lieutenant George: But you are Captain Blackadder's batman?
Lieutenant George: Come on, Baldrick. Be a little more helpful. It's me.
Baldrick: No, it isn't.
George: The war started because of the vile Hun and his villainous empire building.
Blackadder: George, the British Empire at present covers a quarter of the globe, while the German Empire consists of a small sausage factory in Tanganyika. I hardly think we can we can be entirely absolved from blame on the imperialistic front.
Baldrick: I don't like them doctors. If they start poking around inside me...
Blackadder: Baldrick, why would anyone wish to poke around inside you?
Baldrick: They might find me interesting.
Blackadder: I find the Great Northern and Metropolitan sewage system interesting, but that doesn't mean I want to put on some rubber gloves and pull things out of it with a pair of tweezers.